The Spy Who Kicked Ass
by The Fanfiction Nymph
Summary: James Bond your favorite Super Sayian must uncover a wicked plot. Featuring all your favorite DBZ chars in a 007 twist. Note: Sexual theames and langue.


_**Disclaimer: This story is in no way intended to infringe on any copyrights, It is a strictly a fan fiction. Dragon Ball, Dragonball Z, and Dragon Ball GT are owned/produced/merchandised by the following: TOEI Animation, Bird Studios, Akira Toriyama, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and others possibly not listed**._

**THE SPY WHO KICKED ASS  
**_By; The Fanfiction Nymph_

* * *

**Characters;**

007, British Secret Agent, James Bond – _Your favorite Super Sayijin (Whoever that may be)_

Moneypenny – _Chi-Chi_

M/The Old Man – _Master Roshi_

Q – _Kami_

French agent, number 18 – _Number 18_

Jealous husband of 18 – _Krillen_

008, British secret agent - _Yamcha_

Evil Villain with evil plot – ?????

* * *

_James Bond style music plays with usual opening of gun sighting Bond and then him turning and shooting_

A man in a suit nervously looks around him. All that is visible are tall tropical trees and clear sky above.

Sweat drops as the man darts through a thick clump of trees, then barely is able to stop himself from falling over a cliff and onto the jagged rocks below.

Hastily he turned around and walked back towards the trees, gun out and hand shaking.

He dropped the gun suddenly. Fear in his eyes he stepped back horrified at something. Terrified so much that he over stepped and fell off the cliffs to meet the rocks and crashing waves below.

XX

_**James Bond's hotel room in Paris, France**_

The room was large and held every luxury the hotel was famous for. James Bond however had not been content with this and had added his own little something that he was famous for; a girl.

The girl was number 18 of the French secret service. She was blonde and beautiful and had helped James solve a case earlier that day. Her moans filled the room as they celebrated their success. 18 and he were on the brink when the hotel phone rang.

James knew it was important as his watch was vibrating uncomfortably.

They both groaned, but he answered the phone, ignoring the distracting things 18 was doing. "Hello?" He managed; his voice winced as 18's hands moved over delicate parts.

"007. Congrats on your last mission." The voice paused, perhaps they could hear 18 whispering promises to James that she would do when he hung up the phone, or perhaps they noticed his annoyed tone.

Whatever the reason James shifted the phone and told 18 sternly to "stop that".

The voice continued. "Um, I'm not interrupting anything am I 007?"

"No nothing." James assured the voice.

"Oh, now I'm nothing am I?" Asked 18 rather dryly.

"Quiet!" whispered James urgently.

"007! Pay attention!"

"Yes sir."

"Right. Now you are booked on the next flight to London. Be at the airport in ten minutes. I suggest you leave now."

"Um, how about…" he looked 18 over. "Thirty?"

"Ten."

"Twenty."

"Five."

"Twenty."

"Fifteen. See you in London 007" Click. The voice hung up. James hung up too and thought about getting dressed then drew 18 near to him and a smile drew upon their faces. In the famous French hotel, famous last words echoed through the tasteful room. "Oh, James!"

James had speed to the airport trying to make up lost time, but he had still been late. Unfortunate, but it had not been avoidable.

It seems that 18 had been married to a short-cue-ball-headed agent and he had set up a rather nasty reception for James that had nearly cost him his flight, dignity and manhood. He felt this was a little too costly a price to pay for a woman and decided that next time he was in France he would _not_ look up number 18.

**In England, British Inteligence**

Behind the penny sweet shop,

through the fake back of the telephone both,

past the red door,

down four flights of stairs,

through the identification cheek,

past the yellow door,

down the hall from the rabid weasel convention,

inside a safe,

through a brown door,

down a maze of rooms and doors that all look alike,

following the white rabbit,

through the black door,

behind a desk; sat Miss Moneypenny.

Miss Moneypenny looked up from her desk as a black bowler hat flew across the room and landed on the hat stand.

"Hello James." She said sweetly watching him enter the room and close the door.

"Good morning Miss Moneypenny. I trust you are well?"

"I could be better, but you better go in right away. The Old Man had a hard time getting a hold of you – as usual. You don't do that purposely do you? So you can devour a few more hors d'oevres?"

He chuckled. "Something like that." He said nodding and walked through the thick metal door to M's office.

M – or rather The Old Man – did not have a name, or not one that he was ever called. M had a long white beard, baldheaded, and wore infamous sunglasses. In his hands he held a playboy magazine and was smoking a pipe.

He quickly put away the magazine. "007 this is an emergency! The fate of the world is in your hands!" M looked very upset and his eyes were tinged red as if he had been crying.

James wondered what could be so serious that M would be so lost over.

"Yes M?"

"Its terrible! Maron – Star of Playboy, and many infamous xxx movies has gone missing! I sent 008 to rescue her and bring her back, but I have received word that he died rather suddenly. 007 I think he was murdered!"

James Bond looked at M rather sadly. He remembered that once, long before the invention of anything important and just after the invention of time, M had been great. He tried to remind him self of this to stop himself from lashing out at him.

Thinks he might have been murdered indeed! Of course he had been murdered.

"Senile old pervert." He muttered, M did not notice however. "Sir, do we have any leads? Did anything else happen that's important?"

"Important!? What's more important than finding Maron!? But yes, um lets see...oh yes a minor detail. All the bleach, blonde dye of every color in the world has been stolen."

"A minor note?!" he gasped.

Without blonde dye almost all the sexy women in the world would be brunettes! And as if that's not bad enough, how could he go Super Sayian without having blonde hair?

"Do we have any leads?"

"Uh, what? Oh yeah, just one. Does the word SEX mean anything to you?" Bond looked at The Old Man startled.

The Old Man realized what he must have thought he meant then added quickly

"No, no! 007 don't you ever think of anything else? S-E-X.

Sisters, Erogenous, Xantippe. They are an evil group of women; heaven knows why they called themselves that." James could not help but hide a smile.

"Alright then we start with SEX. Where are they? And when do I leave?"

"A small island south of Spain. You leave immediately – after stopping by with Q. I believe he has some knew toys for you."

James nodded and left, the door closed and locked behind him. Miss Moneypenny was sat on her desk, trying very hard to look sexy and look as though she was not trying to. James smiled and shook his head, unnoticeably and took his hat.

"Oh, James?" came the surrey voice of Moneypenny.

"Yes, Moneypenny my one and only?" he asked teasingly.

"What is the name of the evil all woman organization?"

"SEX darling."

"Come again? I didn't hear you. What do you want to do to me?" James laughed and left picking up his hat. "Oh, shit!!!" Muttered Miss Moneypenny as the door closed behind him.

James Bond found his way back through the maze and into an unmarked door. Inside was a large factory. Filled with gizmos and gadgets. He passed many innocent looking objects that had all somehow or other been re-designed for the sole purpose of killing. Unmercifully and unrelenting. The thought however did not bother James.

He walked on stopping sometimes to admire the lads testing out the equipment – or more often the woman.

He was just admiring a zesty redhead, busy with a chronic problem computer when Q came up behind him.

"Ahem." He coughed. James turned around and smiled.

"Good morning Q. What have you got for me?"

"007. It is my fond hope that one of these days my inventions _don't_ work. I secretly dream it would _unfortunately _result in your death. Now come on. I am very busy and am not in the mood for any of your quips."

"Of course Q. And the day your gadgets kill me is the day that satin will go skating to work." Q shot him a venomous look and walked on, ignoring him. He wasn't sure what is was, but no one listened to Q.


End file.
